“’Tis blood,” he cried.  “Blood!  Osiris has been slain afresh, and his holy blood fills the banks of Nile.”

So much were they afraid, indeed, that had I not forced them to hold to their course they would have turned and rowed up stream, or beached the boat and fled into the desert.  But I cried to them to steer on northwards, for thus perhaps we should sooner be done with this horror, and they obeyed me.  Ever as we went the hue of the water grew more red, almost to blackness, till at last it seemed as though we were travelling through a sea of gore in which dead fish floated by the thousand, or struggled dying on the surface.  Also the stench was so dreadful that we must bind linen about our nostrils to strain the foetid air.

We came abreast of a town, and from its streets one great wail of terror rose to heaven.  Men stood staring as though they were drunken, looking at their red arms which they had dipped in the stream, and women ran to and fro upon the bank, tearing their hair and robes, and crying out such words as—­

“Wizard’s work!  Bewitched!  Accursed!  The gods have slain each other, and men too must die!” and so forth.

Also we saw peasants digging holes at a distance from the shore to see perchance if they might come to water that was sweet and wholesome.  All day long we travelled thus through this horrible flood, while the spray driven by the strong north wind spotted our flesh and garments, till we were like butchers reeking from the shambles.  Nor could we eat any food because of the stench from this spray, which made it to taste salt as does fresh blood, only we drank of the water which I had provided, and the rowers who had held me to be mad now named me the wisest of men; one who knew what would befall in the future.

At length towards evening we noted that the water was growing much less red with every hour that passed, which was another marvel, seeing that above us, upstream, it was the colour of jasper, whereon we paused from our rowing and, all defiled as we were, sang a hymn and gave thanks to Hapi, god of Nile, the Great, the Secret, the Hidden.  Before sunset, indeed, the river was clean again, save that on the bank where we made fast for the night the stones and rushes were all stained, and the dead fish lay in thousands polluting the air.  To escape the stench we climbed a cliff that here rose quite close to Nile, in which we saw the mouths of ancient tombs that long ago had been robbed and left empty, purposing to sleep in one of them.

A path worn by the feet of men ran to the largest of these tombs, whence, as we drew near, we heard the sound of wailing.  Looking in, I saw a woman and some children crouched upon the floor of the tomb, their heads covered with dust who, when they perceived us, cried more loudly than before, though with harsh dry voices, thinking no doubt that we were robbers or perhaps ghosts because of our bloodstained garments.  Also there was another child, a little one, that did not cry, because it was dead.  I asked the woman what passed, but even when she understood that we were only men who meant her no harm, she could not speak or do more than gasp “Water!  Water!” We gave her and the children to drink from the jars which we had brought with us, which they did greedily, after which I drew her story from her.